A werewolf
Anthena POV
The shift in my boss's behaviour had been nothing short of a miracle. The once infamously merciless tyrant had softened. Since that day at the golf course, he'd shown nothing but respect—something I'd never expected to see. Maybe his upcoming marriage was shaping him into a better man. His fiancée, though... she was something else. Sassy, short-tempered, sharp tongued and absolutely fearless. I'd pitied her at first, thinking she was marrying a psychopath, but now it seemed like they were perfectly suited. Work was peaceful, manageable even; the tasks were light, and the pay was generous. I couldn't be more grateful.
But tomorrow was different. Tomorrow would mark sixteen years since I lost my parents. Every anniversary, I was pulled back into the relentless obsession of finding answers. I was only five when they died, but the memory was imprinted with painful clarity. I’d seen it all—seen the monsters tear them apart. Werewolves. Everyone else called it a childhood nightmare, a trick of a traumatised mind. Even my aunt claimed it was my imagination, a sign I was losing my grip on reality, just like her sister had before. But I knew what I’d seen.
The investigation wasn’t going well. My team’s patience was running thin, and each day, they questioned the worth of it all. Still, I strung them along, insisting I was close to a breakthrough, when in truth, I had no leads—just the fading memory of a dark forest and glowing eyes.
A heavy sigh escaped me as I pushed myself off the bed. Across the room, Mandy was on a video call with her mother, frustration clouding her features. “Mummy, please, just let it go. James and I are over,” she said, her voice barely concealing her anger.
“You owe me an explanation, young lady,” her mother demanded, her tone icy.
Mandy clenched her jaw, glancing at me for strength. “Mom, we’re not compatible. Genetically, I mean,” she lied smoothly, though the strain in her voice was unmistakable. I knew she was only protecting her mother from the truth—James had betrayed her, but she’d rather keep that pain locked away than see her mother’s disappointment.
Seeing her struggle, I stepped in, taking the phone with a polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.” Mandy’s mother softened instantly, her voice warm and welcoming. After some brief pleasantries, I ended the call, and as soon as I set the phone down, Mandy crumbled into my arms.
An idea sparked. “Let’s go up to the rooftop,” I said with a sad smile. “We could use a drink.”
She nodded, and we each grabbed a can from the fridge before heading up into the night. The rooftop was quiet, the cool air laced with the scent of rain, and the city lights stretched endlessly below us. We clinked our cans, a small toast to shared grief and reluctant healing.
“My parents’ anniversary is tomorrow,” I murmured, the words heavy as they fell between us.
Mandy’s expression softened. “Oh… It’s that time of the year,” she said gently, her voice filled with sympathy. She reached over, squeezing my hand. “I know it’s hard, Anthena, but you have to stop blaming yourself. You were just a child.”
I nodded, forcing a smile, but my mind was already drifting back to that night.
My parents had promised me a trip, but my mother had arrived late. It was pouring rain, and they wanted to wait until morning, but I begged them to leave that night. I fell asleep in the backseat, content, only to wake up alone in the car. Confused, I stumbled out into the darkness, searching for them. Then I saw them—giant, dark creatures with fangs, snarling, tearing into my parents. My heart had shattered as I watched, too afraid to move, too young to understand. And as quickly as they had come, the wolves disappeared into the shadows, leaving me to stand there, frozen.
For years, I blamed myself for their deaths. If I hadn’t insisted on the trip, if I’d stayed asleep... Maybe things would be different.
Mandy’s voice broke into my reverie. “I wish you’d stop carrying all this guilt, Anthena,” she said, her words soft but firm. “Tomorrow, try to let it go. You deserve to heal. You deserve peace.” Her eyes were glistening as she pulled me close, and I felt the warmth of her unspoken love—a bond that had held me together for years. We hugged, letting the tears fall silently, each of us clinging to the other.
Eventually she stretched and yawned. “I should head to bed,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Are you coming?”
“I’ll stay up here for a while,” I replied, and she gave me a final, reassuring squeeze before heading back inside.
As the rooftop fell silent again, I felt the weight of the memories settle back onto my shoulders. Could I ever really move on? Could I ever find peace in a world that had taken so much from me?
A shiver ran down my spine, and I looked out toward the forest beyond the rooftop. Then I saw something.
At first, it was just a blur among the trees, but then it moved, emerging briefly into the patchy moonlight. My breath hitched. It was massive, its form hunched and feral, muscles rippling beneath dark fur. It moved with a silent, almost ghostly speed, a hulking figure that defied any rational explanation.
And then it stopped.
The creature’s head lifted, ears twitching, and those amber eyes found me—locking onto me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. They were intelligent, ancient, and dangerously aware. My mind screamed at me to turn and run, but my legs wouldn’t move.
The werewolf lingered, and for a heartbeat, it felt like we were the only two beings in the world, caught in a strange and terrifying understanding. Then, without warning, it darted deeper into the forest, vanishing into the shadows.
I stood there, trembling as the weight of what I’d seen sank in. My mind was reeling. A werewolf. I hadn’t imagined it. It was real. They were real.
As the night grew darker around me, only one question clawed its way to the front of my mind:
Should I follow?